


Wherein Ino Yamanaka Regales Sakura Haruno With Her Long List of Conquests

by epsilonics



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epsilonics/pseuds/epsilonics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakura's just trying to study for this stupid bio exam and Ino insists instead on explicitly narrating any and all Relations she's had with the fairer sex (and damn does that make it hard to concentrate on mitochondria).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wherein Ino Yamanaka Regales Sakura Haruno With Her Long List of Conquests

**Author's Note:**

> haha so this idea has just sort of been niggling at me since i started vaguely mapping out a larger college-verse Naruto so i thought i would indulge myself and churn it out. (it's unfortunately a little choppy since i wrote it largely in installments.) (also lol i'm terrible at writing smut I TRIED.) (and wow do i overuse italics. FIGHT ME.) because really there is not enough love for these beautiful ladies. ♥

“Did you know that Anko Mitarashi is bisexual?” Ino says conversationally as Sakura sits down next to her with a latte and Sakura is glad that she put her drink down ahead of time, because she certainly would have spilled it otherwise. 

“Ino! Everyone knows she and Professor Ibiki are a Thing with a capital T – “ 

“I said she swings _both_ ways, not one.” Ino rolls her eyes. 

“Yeah, well.” Sakura pulls out her bio book and starts rifling through it, looking for the right page. “It's not nice to spread unfounded rumours. Even if it is about crazy GA's.” 

Ino doesn't reply, so Sakura assumes that the topic is discussed and dropped and starts studying, but when she next looks up, she's alarmed to see Ino smiling broadly, the kind of smile that can only mean terrible things (or shuddering, gasping, spine-prickling good things, but Sakura firmly puts those from her mind). “Yes?” she asks her girlfriend, thinking herself indulgent. 

“I wouldn't necessarily say they're _unfounded_...” Ino trails off and gives Sakura a very smug eyebrow raise. 

“ _Ino_ ,” Sakura hisses. “ _You didn't_.” 

“Oh, I did.” Ino looks horrifyingly pleased with herself. 

Sakura groans. “Ino, I really don't want to know. It's fine. It's great. I'm glad you had liaisons before our relationship and I hope they were nice, but I do not need to know the 'deets,'” she says firmly, the last word in air quotes. 

“Oh, sorry.” Ino shrugs and sips at her hazelnut coffee. “I just thought you'd be interested to know that your teacher crush has more handcuffs than I've seen in my life, and gives _amazingly_ good head.” 

“Hey! I do _not_ have a crush on Anko, am not interested in her handcuff collection, and really, really am not comfortable with that information.” 

“So sorry,” Ino trills. (She is not sorry at all, Sakura can tell and Ino knows Sakura can tell and Sakura knows that Ino knows she knows and there is generally a lot of knowing going on.) “I just figure it explains why she's so into Ibiki; I heard he used to be a policeman.” 

Sakura giggles in spite of herself. “Get to work, you rapscallion.” 

“Yes, grandma.” Ino sticks her tongue out briefly and begins leafing through her book. Sakura returns to her book with a smile, and manages to put it from her mind and concentrate on her study guide instead, not images of Ino handcuffed to a headboard, gasping as Anko pushed her knees apart and ran her lips along the inside of her thighs, finally stopping to softly kiss at her clit, smiling when Ino whimpered at her tongue, Ino writhing when Anko slid a finger into her wet – 

“Have you ever seen Temari with her hair down?” 

“I – what?” Sakura coughed delicately. “Sorry, say again?” 

Ino's smile is a little too knowing for Sakura's tastes but she doesn't change the subject. “Temari. Have you ever seen her with her hair down?” 

“Uh, no. No, I don't believe so.” 

“It's really weird. Kind of cool, though, once you get over the shock.” 

“Oh. Well.” Sakura wonders distantly why Ino is telling her this, still trying to pry her mind free of their previous conversation topic. “I bet.” 

Ino nods sagely. “Of course, the fact that her shirt was off probably didn't hurt.” 

“ _Ino_.” Not again. 

“ _Sakura_ ,” Ino mimics, totally, in Sakura's opinion, exaggerating her primness. “What? She was wearing boxer briefs. I mean, not for long, but – “ 

“Ino, you are not to sleep with girlfriends that aren't yours!” 

“Relax, she and Shikamaru weren't dating then. I was helping her find an outfit for a banquet, and I just _happened_ to see her changing, and then I was supposed to help zip something but I ended up helping unzip it, you see, and she has this really delightful mole above her belly button, to the right a little, and for all the tough facade she puts up, she's really, _really_ fucking sensitive. I mean, you _breathe_ on her and she melts. Let's not get into how she reacts when you run your teeth along her ear, you know the way. I don't think I've ever heard Temari say anything at less than megaphone volume, but it was a very respectable whimper.” 

“Ino – “ 

“Girls like her, you just, you take it slow, you know? Because she's all in a rush, fluttering and shaky, and you have to slow her down a little, relax her – “ 

“ _Ino_ – “ 

“Of course, if you can manage it, pin her against a wall, maybe. I mean, it worked for me, and she seemed a little less wobbly when I worked my way on down to her boobs – “ 

“ _Mother of God, Ino_.” 

“No, not really. She's pretty flat, honestly. It's good, though, really nice legs to make up for it.” 

“ _Ino, we are in a public place and I will pour my coffee on you if you do not stop this instant_.” 

“Whoa, there.” Ino has the impudence to look affronted. “No need for a scene.” 

“A scene? A scene, are you serious? You're the one explicitly narrating our friend's sexual responses to me in the university library.” 

Ino looks around, cool as a cucumber. “We're on the ninth floor. There's no one here.” 

“All the same, can we not talk about Temari's long legs and belly mole and apparent sexual frailties while I'm trying to study for this test?” 

“My bad, my bad. Sorry about that.” 

“Thank you.” 

“TenTen, on the other hand, no frailties. And no boxer shorts, these really great lacy things.” 

“Ino!” Sakura snaps. 

“What?” Ino smiles sweetly. “I'm not talking about Temari.” 

Sakura is speechless. This, of course, only encourages Ino to continue. 

“But, like I said, these little lacy things, and I mean little like there can't be more than a square inch of lace in those panties. I don't know how much professors like Gai make, but if he can afford those, he's not doing too bad.” 

“Right, Gai. Gai, her boyfriend. Her friendboy. Her friendpenis. How did you even – “ 

“Well, her friendpenis might have left his flashdrive after class one day and I might have looked in it out of curiosity before dropping it off in his mailbox, which was a really great idea, because there were these videos on it? Wow. I didn't think Gai could find his way to a vagina if he had a map, but well. Tenten sure showed him how, if he didn't know before.” 

Sakura thinks to cover her ears but is somehow too overcome with horror at the image of Maito Gai enthusiastically navigating a woman's body that she can't even bring herself to move.

“I just have to wonder if he got her the vibrator, too? She didn't specify. It kind of looked like she'd had it for a while, though, she sure knew her way around it. And by around it, I mean _around_ it.” 

“Why did you even make that joke, why are you saying these things.” It's not so much a question to Ino as a plea to the universe. 

“Because it was funny, shut up. And because Tenten is freakishly flexible. Like, I think I saw her uterus she was doing such an impressive split. A really good show, though. Not too over-the-top, but not nervous. Just. Really in control of her body, you know? Really confident. And she has this fantastic lower register, you can feel her voice working right through you.” 

A new dread starts to fill Sakura and replace her previous horror, dread at how flushed she suddenly feels and how taut her stomach is and how somehow her mouth seems unable to close all the way. 

“I mean, I would buy it on tape if I could. Or at least pirate it. Then I could watch and rewatch how she just sort of sinks onto the thing with this shuddering groan and fucks herself with her panties still on. If you can call them that, even. Calling them a g-string would be generous. Doesn't leave much to the imagination. Did you know she has a landing strip? It's like directions for where to put your face.” 

“And _you_ ,” Sakura chokes, “are not putting your face anywhere near there, so you can stop talking about it and do your homework and let me study in peace, because if I fail this exam because of Tenten's pubic hair, I swear that I will drop-kick you right out of this ninth floor window.” 

“That is a threat and threats are _mean_ , you are being _mean_ , Sakura. I am hurt.” 

“Not compared to how hurt you'll be if you don't stop distracting me.” 

“ _Fine_ , fine.” Ino brushes her hair back behind her ear with a shrug. “Your loss.” 

“I'm sure it is,” Sakura growls, finally, _finally_ starting to read – 

“But you know who shaves all the way? Hinata.” 

“ _Ino, I will fucking murder_ – wait, _Hinata_?” 

“I know, right?” 

“But Hinata's, like, _five_ , she can't possibly even have anything there to _shave_.” 

Ino gives a one-shouldered shrug. “No, definitely shaves. And with a rack like that? She's certainly not five.” 

“A rack?” Sakura feels a little faint. 

“Oh yeah. Ten out of ten, gold star, would motorboat. Any day of the week.” 

“Ino, I want you to know that you are talking about Hinata Hyuuga's breasts. Hinata Hyuuga, who is like a scared bunny and makes you feel like you are in a meadow of flowers and puppies and rainbow sunshine when she smiles at you. For this I will not stand.” 

Ino rolls her eyes. “Stop white-knighting, Sakura. You didn't see that bunny shyly bat her eyelashes and look down all coy and do the thing where if you press your arms against your boobs it makes them stick out more and ask if I had any advice on how to make Naruto 'feel good' – “ Ino waggles her eyebrows here for extra emphasis and at this Sakura buries her face in her hands “ – and maybe I could help her in her time of need. Which, of course, I am always willing to do, for a damsel in distress.” 

Sakura manages a muffled “And I'm the one white-knighting?”

Ino ignores her and blithely continues. “I am telling you, it is a crime against humanity that she wears those high-collared shirts, because her boobs are _outstanding_. Not too big, not too small, perky and round with the cutest little nipples. It was almost like they were asking me to suck them, and who am I to refuse?” 

_You are Ino Yamanaka, my stupid, sexy, slutty girlfriend and I really think I should want you to stop telling me about this and I don't want that at all and that is just a little much for me_ , Sakura thinks through a haze. 

“But I showed her how to do the eye thing, where you look up at them through your eyelashes when you're about to go down on them, and I showed her the proper way to undress, and how hard to bite and where, and the way to slot your thighs together so you can grind without bumping too many bones together. How to ride someone so that your boobs bounce a little and how to wrap your legs around their waist when they're fucking you and how to eat a girl out.” 

“That last one was strictly necessary?” 

“Hell no, she just wanted to thank me for my time.” Ino sighs dreamily. “That girl has so much natural talent, she is lost on a punk like Naruto.” 

Sakura is just a pile of table goop anymore, face in her arms. “Take her. Keep her. I'm just going to die soon anyway, and go to hell because I've imagined the sweet, innocent Hinata naked.” 

Ino scoffs. “Don't be so dramatic, Sakura.” And Sakura can feel Ino's hair brush her shoulder as her girlfriend leans down to nip her earlobe and whisper smugly, “You'll go to hell for plenty of reasons before that one.” 

Sakura starts at Ino's warm breath in her ear, distantly noticing (again) the heat in the pit of her stomach. She looks up. “I'm not being dramatic,” she argues, though she can't quite muster the indignation to make her rebuttal sound not-lame. 

“Mmhmm.” Ino sounds unconvinced. “I taught her how to work your hand into unzipped jeans, too, see.” And before Sakura can say anything, Ino's fingers undo the button on her jeans and slip into her underwear, ever-so-softly rubbing her clit. 

Sakura's reply dies on her lips and she only manages a gasped “Fuck, Ino.” 

“No, not now, I don't think.” Her fingers slide lower, and she gives a breathy laugh. “You reacted a little stronger than I thought you would.” 

“You sat here and told me for fifteen minutes – “ Sakura squirms a little and struggles with words “ -- about all the sex you had with all these beautiful women and _didn't_ think I'd get wet?” 

Ino smiles, and it's her spine-prickling, shudder-and-gasp smile again. “Not really. I was counting on it.” 

And before Sakura can ask what she means (though she has a sneaking suspicion), Ino stands up from their booth suddenly. “Come on,” she says, taking Sakura by the hand. 

Sakura, of course, follows. (She always follows Ino, every time.) 

Ino leads her to the bathroom (and she's right, the whole floor is empty and silent as a tomb), pulls her inside, and locks the door behind them. Sakura has time to ask “Here?” before Ino pins her to the wall and kisses her fiercely. 

“Here.” 

Sakura should be scandalized, but mostly she's wet and horny and annoyed that they're still wearing clothes, so she kisses her back, probably a little too hard, yanking Ino forward by her belt loops. She feels Ino smile into the kiss, slide her tongue along Sakura's lower lip, whose mouth opens at its touch. 

Ino unzips her jeans this time, fingers rubbing circles against her clit, teeth running along her neck. Sakura whimpers when Ino's teeth scrape her clavicle, and dazedly thanks whatever led her to wear a tank top today when Ino slides the strap down off of her shoulder so that she can lay a trail of kisses to Sakura's nipple. Her tongue flicks against it and Sakura whimpers again, and Ino apparently takes that as a sign of approval, taking her whole nipple into her mouth and scraping her teeth along it. Sakura bites back another whimper, still maybe a little nervous that some spinsterly library aide would appear out of the woodwork and berate them. 

But then Ino's mouth is at her hips, all smiles and teeth, and Sakura's warning is lost in the gasp that escapes her mouth. Ino has always had some strange way of disarming her, even when they were young, with pretty flowers and perfect make-up and crafty words, with big blue eyes and an assumed air of worldliness, that hasn't stopped since elementary school, and now that they're dating the list includes sex and Sakura's as tongue-tied as ever. 

Ino hums happily when Sakura's hand slips into her hair (when did Sakura's jeans become undone? pulled down? Sakura wonders), trailing kisses to the patch of trim pink hair that Ino so delights in (“It's _pink_!” “I know, so is my hair!” “Yes, but it's _pink_! They're like little princess pubes!”) before swooping down with her tongue. Sakura's vision goes a little fuzzy around the edges; she's suddenly hyper-aware of the coldness of the hideous tiled wall and the hairs rising on her own arms and more than anything Ino spelling out the alphabet with her tongue against her clit, Ino kneeling in front of her with little sighs, smooth fingers sliding into her, first one, then two, then three with a little aching stretch, and Sakura moans, something between Ino's name and a prayer, before her body clenches and she tugs at Ino's hair a little too hard. 

Ino generally has a pretty self-satisfied air about her, and right now she's positively glowing with it, eyes shining as she gets to her feet. She's a little out of breath, but she kisses Sakura, long and drawn out, old movie-style “I love you” kisses Sakura, and Sakura's maybe a little wobbly, but she kisses back with the same soft fierceness. 

“Hey,” Ino says simply when she pulls back, smiling. 

“Hey.” Sakura smiles back. “You're a little crazy.” 

“Crazy for _you_ ,” Ino retorts with a grin and Sakura is caught between groaning and laughing and blushing, so she does all three at once. Ino laughs, too, and gently tugs Sakura's jeans back up, buttons and zips them. “Zing.” 

“Zing, indeed. Thank you.” She wraps her arms around Ino's shoulders and kisses her again, feels Ino's arms circle her waist. 

“My pleasure.” 

They kiss a moment more before Ino gives a small giggle. 

“Mmm?” asks Sakura, not quite ready to make too many words yet. 

“I made it up.” 

It takes a second for Sakura to realize what she's talking about, but when she puts two and two together she gives an indignant “ _Excuse me_?” 

“Well, you see, you were so wound up about this test and studying for this test and everything that I sort of thought I should... distract you.” 

Sakura gapes at her for a moment. “You are a criminal.” 

“Well, it worked, didn't it? The chemicals are good de-stressors. _Science_.” 

“A liar and a scoundrel.” 

“I just gave you head on the ninth floor of the library, let's not disrespect me too much.” 

“You made it up?” 

“Well, yeah. I really don't know anything about Tenten's underwear.” 

Sakura sighs. “Well, I've got to hand it to you, you've got a vivid imagination.” 

Ino beams. “Thank you. Though I can't take credit for Anko, that was all nonfiction.” 

“You mean you...?” 

Ino's proud grin is all the confirmation she needs. 

“Jesus, Ino.” 

“I can hook you up if you want. I still have her number somewhere.” 

Sakura rolls her eyes. “No, thanks. My girlfriend might kill her.”

Ino beams brighter. “Back to studying, then?” 

Sakura gives her one last kiss before unlocking the door.


End file.
